His Own Worst Enemy
by Brewing Glory
Summary: During the final battle, Draco Malfoy was killed. And then, miraculously, he's given a second chance at life. Just, not in the way that he would have thought. In 1980, as the seventh month dies, the-boy-who-was-once-a-ferret finds himself in a wholly unwelcome situation. 'Harry' almost wished he had stayed dead. Draco!Harry, if that makes any sense.


**Author's Note: I've never actually seen anything like this, not that I looked, but I thought it was an interesting idea. I just thought I'd put it out here, see if anyone would actually read it. I'm not sure if I'll update anytime soon, especially with all of the stories I have up, but whatever. I am looking forward to this one, though. Like, can you imagine Draco!Harry meeting himself for the first time? "Damn, was I always such a little shit?" The thought is hilarious. As for pairings, I'll say Dramione/Harmony. It could change as we get further in the story I feel like it's going a different direction, but as of now, I'm thinking Dramione/Harmony. If I do change my mind, Luna, Ginny, and Daphne are the other ones I considered.**

 **Disclaimer: Only this story is mine. Any similarities to other stories is just coincidence. Or an accident. Just in case, you should probably warn me if it starts to sound to similar to anything else, so if I accidently copied something, I can give credit where it is due.**

* * *

Chaos. Complete and utter chaos. Draco cursed, ducking as another Killing Curse was sent his way. Without looking back, he shot the first spell he could think of over his shoulder, way passed the point of caring whose side was hit with it.

His eyes continuously scanned the battlefield—for that's what it was now, not a school, but a battlefield—looking for any sign of his family. They were the only things that mattered to him right now. He just wanted to find his mother and father, and maybe escape to Canada or something. He didn't really have much of a plan passed apparating the hell away from here.

Draco weaved his way passed countless fights, mostly blocking and only attacking when necessary. He didn't care who won this bloody war, just that he and his family made it out alive. He felt a breeze and a slight sting as a random spell missed his ear by a hair, and he reflexively looked back to see where it had come from.

Mudblood Granger was dueling his batshit crazy aunt. Potter's right hand against the Dark Lord's, as the men themselves fought only twenty feet away. It was almost comical. Almost. Any humor he would've normally found in the situation was overwhelmed by the fact that he was _still in the middle of a bloody war_ and _no_ closer to finding his parents.

Still, he was surprised that Granger was actually holding her own. It was impressive, actually. He had to refrain from cheering when she somehow managed to rid Aunt Bella of her wild hair. If he had to guess, it was probably some strange form of revenge for the torture she suffered at the bitch's hand. Or, rather, wand.

Tearing his eyes away from the two, he surveyed his surroundings again, deflating when no familiar shade of blond was anywhere near his immediate area. Draco swore again, feeling desperation begin to gnaw at the pit of his stomach. Dodging a few more curses aimed his way, he began to move closer to the castle, hoping that maybe his mother at least had found safety there. He had barely made it five feet before a much too familiar agonized scream sounded in the air, followed by another much too familiar cackle. His eyes found the source immediately, and his face paled at the sight that greeted him.

His aunt had the mudblood under her Cruciatus Curse again. And, just like the first time, Draco had to force himself not to tremble.

It was pathetic really, the way he reacted to her torture. She wasn't his friend, far from it, and if anything he should have been gleeful at the sight of her finally getting what she deserved. But he was horrified. He had been mostly fine when the other Death Eaters tortured those muggles, and only slightly fazed when they brought in some other mudbloods he recognized from school. But when Potter and his friends were brought in, he found himself shaken to his core. Because these were people he had actually interacted with, and on a nearly daily basis before the war.

And Granger's screams, mudblood or not—pain in the arse or not—struck him so hard that even breathing was made difficult. And all he could do was stand there and watch.

 _But now there was no one to stop him from doing anything,_ he realized suddenly. _He could make the screams stop._

And before he even realized what he was doing, his wand was up and pointed steadily, an eerie green light shooting out of it.

Draco didn't know how long he stood there, looking at his own wand in shock and something akin to horror, but it was apparently long enough, as when he finally looked back at the scene that had terrified him so, the Mudblood was already standing, staring at him incredulously. He met her eyes, trying to convey with his own that _he didn't do it for her, he just wanted her screams to stop_ , but he wasn't sure she got the message, as she only continued to gape at him. They stared each other down for a moment, until he noticed her eyes drift over his right shoulder. Twisting around, he just barely heard her warning shriek of, " _Malfoy!"_ before he felt something crash into his chest.

And then Draco Malfoy knew no more.

* * *

Draco Malfoy was many things—a coward, a liar, a cheat, a bit of a momma's boy—he wasn't afraid to admit that. But what he _wasn't,_ was an idiot. He was smart—maybe not as smart as Mudblood Granger, but still smart. And, as the smart boy that he was, he realized that now he had another thing to add to the list of things he wasn't: he wasn't Draco Malfoy. Not anymore. And, as he still wasn't an idiot, he found another thing to add to the list of things that he _was_ : he was now Harry Potter.

 _Harry freakin' Potter. Saint Potter. The-Boy-Who-Would-Not-Just-Fucking-Die!_

...Actually, that last one was a little reassuring, all things considered.

Draco—he refused to call himself by that wretched name—wouldn't have thought this whole thing possible if it weren't slapping him in the face _every single day_ in the form of his new doting parents, James and Lily Potter. It's all, "Harry this," and "Harry that," and "Harry, say Papa!" and "Harry is two months old, James. He won't be speaking for a long while, stop being stupid."

He was tempted to have his first words be "Dark Lord" just to see their faces.

That's not to say that they were bad parents or anything, it was just he was a legal adult in mind, and the pampering was rather uncomfortable. Not to mention, he already had parents that he loved, and he refused to see these two as their replacements. Sure, his parents were sometimes cold and distant, but that was to give him a sense of independence, and they always made sure he knew they cared and if he had a problem he could come to them no matter what. The Potters, though...

They were the smothering type. Granted, that might just be because technically he was only two months old, but still.

"Oh, does Harry need his nappy changed?" Lily Potter cooed at him, and Draco mentally flinched.

How _humiliating_.

He was pretty sure he never ordered a rebirth from any catalogue, but he wondered if it was too late for a refund.

* * *

 **AN: I really have no idea what to call Draco. Or Harry. I was thinking maybe calling him James, but I don't know. Actually, you know what, if there's a good nickname you guys can think of to call Draco you should suggest it.**


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